


lucky blood

by aurumsky (strasesky), takostation



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: ChanSoo - Freeform, ChanSoo Fic Fest, M/M, takoyakistation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 18:35:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7981894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strasesky/pseuds/aurumsky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/takostation/pseuds/takostation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Park Chanyeol is the leader of a notorious organised criminal gang, and Do Kyungsoo is the man who makes most of his kills for him. But they're more than that, and their rival gang know it for sure.</p><p>It's so easy to destroy someone when you have something they love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lucky blood

**Author's Note:**

> **Other pairings involved:** slight baekhyun/chen, mentioned xiumin/luhan  
>  **Author Notes:** I would just like to say that i actually do really love super junior and leeteuk, and also that i know nothing about gangs/mafias.
> 
>  
> 
> This is a chansoo story written for Takoyaki Station (http://takostation.livejournal.com). Please comment on the LiveJournal site for the story, thank you!

 

When Kyungsoo was five years old, he met Park Chanyeol.

They hadn’t actually spoken to each other. Kyungsoo had only met Chanyeol, eight years old at the time, in passing, when he’d been led through the house in a daze, dirty and bloody, and Chanyeol had asked the man holding Kyungsoo who he was. Kyungsoo still remembers the man’s response: “Nobody. Not yet.”

He also still remembers the look Chanyeol had given him, one of faint disgust but undeniable curiosity.

In the few years after that, they had still never spoken, their only interaction the bows Kyungsoo had given the master’s child when they’d passed in the hall. Kyungsoo had always averted his gaze. Chanyeol never had.

The first time they’d spoken properly was when Kyungsoo, nine years old and an assassin-in-training for the gang Lotto, had saved Chanyeol’s life. It had been an accident, really. He hadn’t meant to wake up at four am in the morning, hadn’t meant to sneak out of the filthy dorm he slept in (along with many others) and venture onto the main road. There, he’d stumbled across the scene of a bloodied, bound and gagged Chanyeol being dragged towards a black van parked across the road.

It had taken Kyungsoo a moment to realise in his sleepy stupor what he was seeing. The main mansion was a little while away, so why was Chanyeol here? And why did he look like... that? For a moment, Kyungsoo had stared. When he finally understood the situation, he stared a little more, frozen to the spot. He was only nine, what could he possibly do?

But when Chanyeol glanced behind him, eyes full of panic, and locked gazes with Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo knew what to do.

The first man never saw him coming. It took Kyungsoo all of his four years of training to creep silently up on him, snatch the knife in his belt, and force it through his back, twisting hard. The man screamed. Kyungsoo still remembers that sound, and the ridiculous rush it had given him.

His first kill.

It had been a little surreal, causing and seeing the blood. When he’d practiced, he’d only ever practiced on dummies. They’d had sand in their bodies, not hot, red liquid. But Kyungsoo liked the feeling he felt.

The second one was a lot trickier. He’d left the knife in the first man’s back and had only had a second to grab for his gun before the second person shot at him. The bullet slid past his thigh, leaving burning pain in its wake. Kyungsoo had screamed. But it was okay, because then the woman who’d shot him moved closer, noticing how young he was, allowing Kyungsoo to take the shot that pierced her chest and killed her.

The third one almost killed him. Kyungsoo had stumbled upright and then suddenly there was a kick to his stomach, sending him skidding across the hard road that scraped open his skin. Pain shot through him, and for a second Kyungsoo couldn’t move, curling in on his stomach. When he looked up he was met with a blow to the jaw, snapping his head to the right. Kyungsoo screamed through the pain, but the man took no notice and lifted him by his throat.

But suddenly there was a knife protruding from the man’s throat and Kyungsoo was dropped back onto the ground. This time when Kyungsoo looked up, the man was dead and Park Chanyeol was extending a hand to him.

“You saved my life,” Chanyeol had said, grinning a bloody grin. “So I thought I would save yours.”

Before Kyungsoo had been able to reach out and grasp the hand, he passed out.

Later, when he’d finally awoken, he was not in the lumpy bed he was used to sleeping in, but a large, soft bed in his own room. Beside him, a boy Kyungsoo recognised to be the doctor’s assistant was tending to a bag of clear liquid connected to Kyungsoo’s arm by a wire and a needle.

His whole body ached, but the sight of the needle embedded in his skin distracted him with fear. “Get it off me,” Kyungsoo had croaked, throat dry and painful. The boy doctor had startled before his face had broken out into a wide smile.

“You’re awake!” The boy had reached out and took Kyungsoo’s hand. Kyungsoo flinched back. “Chanyeol will be so pleased.”

At that, Kyungsoo blinked in surprise, and in that moment the boy left the room, half-running out the door. A few moments later, while Kyungsoo wondered whether he could rip the needle out without hurting himself, the door was slammed open and suddenly Chanyeol was standing over him, grasping his hand, grinning ridiculously widely.

“You’re alive!”

“Uh-”

“Hey, Kyungsoo-ssi, can we be friends?” Chanyeol had gripped Kyungsoo’s hand tighter, looking pleadingly into his eyes. “Please? _Please?_ ”

Kyungsoo had been silent. He had to treat the master’s son with respect, that was what he’d been taught. “No, we can’t be friends. But-,” he added, noting Chanyeol’s forlorn expression, “I don’t mind if we hang out. Sometimes.”

“Yes!” Kyungsoo never knew someone could smile so wide. “Thank you, Kyungsoo-ssi!”

That had been twelve years ago. Kyungsoo doesn’t know if they’re _friends_ now, exactly, but they’re certainly...

Something.

\---

Chanyeol slams his hand down on the table, rattling the polished wood and the nerves of his men. “Would you like to say that again, Minseo-ssi?” he says, eyes narrowed, displeasure thrumming through his blood. The man in question swallows hard, his face pasty white.

“Sir, I said-”

“I know what you said,” Chanyeol snaps. The hand on the table shifts to the gun lying beside it. “You know there’s nothing I hate more than incompetence, Minseo, especially after you’ve had weeks to sort this shit out.”

“Sir, I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” Chanyeol spins the gun in his hand. “Give me one reason not to shoot you right now.”

Minseo looks ready to piss himself. That’s how Chanyeol prefers it. He’s genuinely considering shooting the man, because Minseo has been a pain in Chanyeol’s ass for far too long.

“Chanyeol.” His name, whispered in his ear like a caress, startles him out of his murderous mood. The anger dies down slightly when Chanyeol looks into Kyungsoo’s wide, dark eyes, and he feels infinitely more relaxed when Kyungsoo’s hand runs up his back. “Stay calm, master. You know what Minseo does for us.”

When Chanyeol looks back down the table, varying expressions look back at him from the people in the room. There are some expressions of thinly veiled disgust, some of curiosity, some of jealousy (it _was_ incredibly nice to have a beautiful, dangerous assassin sitting on his lap), and some uncaring. Most of them were used to seeing it by now, but they all still had their own opinions. Chanyeol sometimes wishes they didn’t and that he could send Kyungsoo to kill them all in their sleep, but that’s just not possible.

“Minseo,” Chanyeol says, threat simmering below the tones of the man’s name. “I fully expect this problem to be solved by the end of this week. That’s five days you have. I’m being generous.”

The man bows repeatedly, sweat dotting his forehead. “Of course, sir, of course. Thank you for your generosity.”

“Now get out,” Chanyeol barks. “All of you.”

Chairs scrape back, the various men and women filing hastily out the room. When they’re all gone, Chanyeol drops his gun on the table and runs a hand up the inside of Kyungsoo’s strong thigh. “Thank you, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the side of Kyungsoo’s jaw gently.

“Someone has to stop you from being an idiot,” Kyungsoo says, sliding to sit fully on Chanyeol’s lap, his hands steady on Chanyeol’s shoulders. Chanyeol hums in agreement, his lips moving to kiss the top of Kyungsoo’s neck, sucking gently at the skin there. Distantly, he wonders if Kyungsoo will let them fuck in the boardroom-

“Sorry to interrupt,” a cheery and distinctly unwelcome voice says from across the room. “But you wanted to be informed as soon as Yixing woke up, sir.”

Chanyeol hits his head against the back of the seat and groans. “Fuck off, Baekhyun,” he calls, flipping the doctor off. In his lap, Kyungsoo doesn’t even turn to look at the man.

“You asked,” Baekhyun says in a singsong voice, grinning at them. “And anyway, you should be grateful, I just prevented you two from doing something incredibly unsanitary!”

“Master, can I kill him?” Kyungsoo says, quite pleasantly. Baekhyun squeaks and flees from the doorway.

Chanyeol slides his hands up Kyungsoo’s back. “Now where were we?” he murmurs, looking up at Kyungsoo. But Kyungsoo just raises his eyebrows at him and slides off Chanyeol’s lap.

“You need to go talk to Yixing,” he says when Chanyeol whines a little – _just a little!_ – petulantly.

“Why do you have to be so responsible?” Chanyeol moans, standing. He’s caught off guard when Kyungsoo grabs him by his expensive shirt and drags him down for a slow, dirty kiss, mouth moving hotly against his.

“We’ll do whatever you want,” Kyungsoo says, looking up at him through dark eyelashes, “but _later._ ”

Chanyeol grins. “Oh, good,” he says, and makes his way to the infirmary, Kyungsoo following shortly behind.

Over the past ten years, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had started to develop a master-and-pet dynamic. Chanyeol’s not entirely sure how it started, but he knows that they wouldn’t have this relationship if Kyungsoo didn’t want it, and that’s all Chanyeol needs to feel secure about them. He does know that he’s loved Kyungsoo for years and years, however. It had started out as an odd curiosity in the young boy who’d been taken under the wing of the best fighter in the mafia at the time. Chanyeol still remembers the first time they’d seen each other – Chanyeol had been eight, Kyungsoo five, and he’d been absolutely filthy. But there’d been a strange sort of burning in his eyes – almost hollow, but not quite.

And for Chanyeol, who had so far only encountered children who cried all the time or were overly sadistic, that was enough to interest him. Kyungsoo saving Chanyeol’s life at only nine years old was enough to have Chanyeol’s friendship – and later trust – for life.

When Chanyeol enters the infirmary, he is very pleased to see Yixing sitting up and talking to Jongdae, all soft smiles and gentle touches. Of course, beneath that kind demeanor lies a ruthless killer. A ruthless killer who also gives food to orphans on the street.

Chanyeol appreciates Yixing a lot.

His face splits into a grin as Yixing notices him and smiles, waving him over. “Hello, Chanyeol, Kyungsoo,” Yixing says, reaching for their hands. He gives them a light squeeze. Chanyeol almost crushes Yixing’s hand in response.

“Hey,” Baekhyun says, approaching them with eyes narrowed at Chanyeol, “don’t you dare injure my lovely patient further.”

Yixing grins while Chanyeol instantly lets go, holding up his hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it!” he says, and Jongdae snickers.

“So, Yixing,” Chanyeol begins, watching Kyungsoo take both of Yixing’s hands and sit on the edge of the bed, and _no_ , Chanyeol’s not jealous! “I hear it went successfully, despite your injuries?”

Yixing nods, smiling widely. “Fucked up their deal real good,” he says, patting Kyungsoo’s knee. Okay, now Chanyeol’s maybe a little bit jealous. And possessive.

“Tell them what else you found out,” Jongdae says, slinging an arm around Yixing and jostling his body.

“Hey!” Baekhyun protests, eyes narrowed. Jongdae withdraws the arm, smiling sheepishly.

“Don’t worry, Baekhyun, I’m not going to break,” Yixing laughs. Baekhyun purses his lips. “When I was there, I overheard the location of one of their warehouses.” This time, when Yixing smiles, it’s chilling and dark. “We should burn it.”

Chanyeol considers this. If it’s just a small warehouse, it’s probably not worth the effort, and it’ll only enrage Leeteuk, the leader of MAMACITA, a rival gang. But-

“It’s the Evanesce warehouse, Chanyeol,” Yixing says. His eyes are glittering.

 _That_ stops Chanyeol in his traps. “The Evanesce warehouse,” Chanyeol repeats. Jongdae grins, Baekhyun studies his fingernails with glee, and Kyungsoo smiles, dark and menacing. “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Chanyeol beams, and plants a huge kiss on Yixing’s cheek. “You’re a fucking star,” he says.

Yixing grins. “I know.”

\---

After a few more minutes with Yixing, Chanyeol returns to his desk. He’s humming as he sits back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table. There’s a pile of reports on his desk but he’s just going to ignore them for now in favour of looking at Kyungsoo, who’s perched on the edge of the desk, right next to Chanyeol’s feet.

“You know you shouldn’t put your feet on the desk,” Kyungsoo scolds lightly, but he’s running his hands up Chanyeol’s calves anyway.

“Come here,” Chanyeol murmurs in reply. The heat in his veins from earlier still hasn’t fully dissipated. Kyungsoo shifts, moving forwards, breath hovering hot over Chanyeol’s mouth. Chanyeol’s lips part immediately, and he reaches for Kyungsoo-

“Kyungsoo-ssi?” comes a tentative voice and a knock on the door. It’s Jongin, one of the more advanced trainees, and Chanyeol lets out a lengthy groan as Kyungsoo moves back.

“You can come in, Jongin-ah. Also, I told you it was okay to drop the honourific,” Kyungsoo reminds him, twisting in Chanyeol’s grip, which has tightened on Kyungsoo’s ass.

The door opens slowly, and a wide-eyed Jongin peerds inside only to blush profusely. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting! I can come back later-”

“It’s fine,” Chanyeol sighs. He’s accepted that he’s going to get cockblocked forever. “What is it, Jongin?”

“Well, it’s just, Zitao and Luhan-hyung have started fighting again...”

Chanyeol throws a hand over his face, sinking low in his seat.

“Oh, and Kris-hyung said that he got the information you wanted.”

 _That_ gets Chanyeol sitting up straight again. “Thank you, Jongin,” he says, and Jongin practically preens. “We’ll come down in a moment.”

“Wait downstairs for us,” Kyungsoo says softly. Jongin bows low before quickly exiting the office, closing the door behind him.

Chanyeol pulls his feet off the desk, dragging Kyungsoo forwards into his lap again. “Two minutes,” Chanyeol murmurs at Kyungsoo’s raised eyebrow.

“Just two?” Kyungsoo laughs, bracing his hands on the chair arms. He starts kissing up the side of Chanyeol’s neck, sucking but not hard enough to leave any marks.

“Mm,” Chanyeol agrees, closing his eyes and tucking his hands down the back of Kyungsoo’s trousers. The training gear Kyungsoo always wears accentuates his curves perfectly, and Chanyeol can never stop staring. Or touching.

By the time the two minutes (and thirty seconds) are over, their lips are kiss-swollen, and Chanyeol is feeling like he wants to tell all his duties to fuck off. But he doesn’t, and with a loud and lengthy sigh, he heads to the main lounge area, Kyungsoo following shortly behind with a hand entwined in Chanyeol’s.

“See you later, master,” Kyungsoo whispers, lips at Chanyeol’s ear, and then he’s gone, off to the training rooms and to – presumably – stop Luhan and Zitao fighting.

A low whistle and a laugh meets Chanyeol’s ears. “Looking good, Chanyeol,” Kris says, spread out on one of the large leather sofas. There’s a can of beer in his hand. “Your buttons are still undone.”

Chanyeol refuses to blush as he quickly buttons up his shirt. “Hey, Kris,” he says. Kris has always been one of Chanyeol’s more trustworthy men. He’s even taller than Chanyeol and older, too, with broad, intimidating shoulders and sharp eyes. Kris usually prefers to stay at his own place and carry out jobs on his own, rather than staying at the mansion like most of Chanyeol’s trusted subordinates. Sometimes, it’s inconvenient, but Chanyeol respects his friend’s decisions. After all, he’s not a _total_ asshole.

“So I was looking into that guy, Heechul, just as you asked. It looks like he _does_ have ties with Leeteuk.” Kris swings his legs off the couch as Chanyeol moves to sit next to him, setting his beer down on the glass table. “I had to ask around a lot, but it seems that they knew each other when they were younger, lost touch, and started talking again last year. And now Heechul’s started letting Leeteuk’s men into his clubs and shit.”

Chanyeol has always known Heechul was a good businessman. He’d made his fortune off the many clubs he owned in Korea and even China. Chanyeol had even met him once – perhaps Chanyeol hadn’t made such a good impression if Heechul was now making deals with MAMACITA, despite his main club being in Lotto’s land. “What would you recommend?” he asks, searching Kris’s expression carefully.

“Perhaps it’s about time someone else took over M&D?” Kris says. He smiles, briefly. “Heechul should retire, he’s getting old.”

“Any recommendations?”

“Not Kyuhyun. That could be dangerous. Kim Ryeowook.”

“And he would rethink his relationship with MAMACITA?” That’s the most important part. If they kill off Heechul only to have him be replaced with someone more ambitious and more loving of Leeteuk, they would have a fucking problem.

Kris smiles again. “Apparently, he has some bad childhood encounters with Leeteuk’s posse.”

Chanyeol leans back on the sofa as Kris reaches for his beer can again. “I’ll have Kyungsoo sort it,” he says. There’s something simmering below his skin, something that will eventually boil.

“Oh, and Junmyeon says that House are acting up again.”

House, a small, ambitious gang that have recently started to try and take more power. “You know what?” Chanyeol grins, all razor blades and blood. “I’m feeling particularly nasty today. Kill them all.”

Kris stands and sketches a bow. “Best thing I’ve heard all day.”

\---

The next evening, Chanyeol brings his most trusted and best men together. Baekhyun is there as one of those men despite being a doctor, not a fighter. He spends the first few moments warning everyone off stressing Yixing too much, and the next clinging to Jongdae, scolding him for getting injured too often. Also present is Junmyeon, chatting amiably with Kris and Yixing. Minseok is pouring himself a cup of coffee, accompanied by a nagging Luhan. And of course, Kyungsoo is there too, curled up on Chanyeol’s lap and sharpening his collection of knives.

“That’s disgusting,” Baekhyun jeers when he sees catches Luhan start to press himself completely into Minseok’s side at the counter, hand inching up Minseok’s shirt. “At least Chanyeol and Kyungsoo save it for the bedroom!”

“Or the office,” Jongdae pipes in cheerfully. Chanyeol splutters. Kyungsoo continues calmly sharpening blades. “But they usually close the door.”

“Fuck off,” Luhan says, flipping the middle finger of his free hand up at them. “You’re just jealous ‘cause you never get laid.”

“Who told you that?” Baekhyun says, rolling his eyes. “Spouting bullshit as always, Hannie-”

“Your obvious pining is telling me that,” Luhan drawls, leaning his chin on Minseok’s shoulder. Minseok pets his head absentmindedly. Baekhyun pales. “Don’t worry, I’m not a dick like you. I’m not going to spill the beans.” He winks dramatically.

“We all know whose dick Baekhyun is thirsty for.” Kris smirks at a glowering Baekhyun. “I’m not even here half the time and _I_ know.”

“I don’t,” Jongdae says, looking puzzled. He glances at Baekhyun, who’s scowling at Luhan still. “Hey, I thought we were best friends!”

“Chanyeol’s my best friend.” Baekhyun sniffs. “He’s just too busy with Kyungsoo these days.”

“You’re never going to get laid like that!” Luhan yells.

“When has he ever _not_ been busy with Kyungsoo?” Minseok adds. He grins, turning away from the counter and lifting his coffee cup. “Don’t make excuses, Baekhyun-ah.”

“Ugh, I hate all of you.”

“Oh, good,” Kyungsoo murmurs. Above him, Chanyeol laughs, showing all his teeth. He appreciates how they will joke so easily in front of him, because even though he’s their boss, he’s also their friend. And while having so many people cower in fear in front of him is gratifying, he would also like to not talk to someone who’s not about to shit themselves.

“Chanyeol, what did you bring us here for?” Junmyeon asks over the bickering around him. “Surely not to talk about Baekhyun’s lack of a sex life.”

“ _I have a sex life-_ ”

“Shut up, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says, dropping his knife on the table. Baekhyun shuts up.

“Thank you, Kyungsoo-ah,” Chanyeol says, grinning. He shoots Baekhyun a smirk, before turning back to Junmyeon, patting Kyungsoo’s thigh lightly. “Fortunately, that was not the main topic of tonight’s meeting. I wanted to share some good news.” Kyungsoo rests his head back, leaning on Chanyeol’s chest, and Chanyeol’s thumb strokes across his thigh. “While on his mission, Yixing was able to discover the location of Evanesce, one of Leeteuk’s bigger warehouses. It’s been confirmed that MAMACITA are unaware of this, so we’re going to use it to our advantage.”

Kris smiles big, teeth bared. “Are we burning it down?”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Chanyeol says, and Jongdae cheers, “don’t you?”

\---

The preparation for the mission is long but necessary. There can be no possibility of Leeteuk catching wind of their plan; otherwise, they’ll be walking into what would essentially be death. Chanyeol knows that this is risky, that they could lose more than they gain. But he also knows that if they pull it off, it pays off. Plus, his men have been itching to burn more than just people who can’t pay their loans back.

The plan is kept mostly a secret, only divulged in full to the people Chanyeol trusts, and the people they trust from there. The grunts are merely told it’s a bust operation, and nothing else. It takes them about two weeks to organise everything, during which time they scout the area (one time, Jongin is almost caught, but manages to escape without raising suspicions, thank _god_ ) as well.

“There seems to be around thirty guards in total,” Jongin had said, pointing to a map of the complex on the table. “Twenty outside, ten inside. Some of them are disguised as workers, so it would probably be better to be wary of everyone.”

“Kill everyone, you mean,” Junmyeon clarified. Jongin nodded.

“Of course, there are workers inside too. I’m not completely sure how many, but probably the same amount as the number of guards.”

“After studying the layout of the building, and the building itself, it seems like we’re going to have to use some serious firepower,” Yixing added. “We knew already, of course, that it wouldn’t be easy, but if we want to completely trash everything in there, it’ll require _a lot_.”

“Fine,” Chanyeol had said. “If you see anything worth taking, take it. But don’t waste your time on things that we can get easily ourselves, got it? This operation needs to be efficient. We cannot afford to linger until Leeteuk sends backup.”

That had been one week ago. Now, there’s twenty of them sitting in vans, on their way to the warehouse. Kris had gone ahead half an hour ago along with forty others.

“Ready, master?” Kyungsoo says softly from Chanyeol’s lap, pulling lightly on his black blazer.

“Of course,” Chanyeol murmurs, leaning forwards to press a kiss to his hairline. “You look fucking hot, by the way.”

Kyungsoo smiles, looking pleased. He’s wearing a new gear suit, completely black and tightly fitted. It covers him from his boots to his chin, with gloves with special grip and a strong but flexible material. Chanyeol had it made specifically for Kyungsoo. He’s glad he did. “You do too, master,” Kyungsoo says, leaning into Chanyeol’s touch. “I like this shirt.”

Chanyeol dresses smart when he goes on missions. He can’t afford to look like a street urchin, can he? “I like you.” Chanyeol grins.

There’s a retching noise from beside them, and Chanyeol turns to glare at Baekhyun, who’s hanging off Jongdae’s shoulder. “Disgusting,” he sings.

“You’re disgusting,” Chanyeol shoots back, Not Childishly At All. Jongdae cackles, slipping an arm around Baekhyun’s waist, at which Chanyeol raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe I should go back, just so I don’t have to witness this PDA,” Baekhyun says, wrinkling his nose. “The other medics can handle it.”

“Do you really want people like _Taehyung_ and _Jimin_ using your supplies without you there to supervise them, Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asks. Baekhyun purses his lips. “Using too many bandages, stitching wrongly, wrapping casts badly-”

“Ugh, I guess you’re right.” Baekhyun sighs dramatically. “I’m the only competent one here.”

Chanyeol snickers.

“Hey!”

The van stops. Chanyeol’s phone vibrates.

 _TIME_. [Received 23:58]

Kyungsoo smiles.

“Here we go, boys,” Chanyeol murmurs, and Jongdae laughs, throwing the van doors open. The night air hits them, harsh and unforgivingly cold, but so, so refreshing. There is chaos in Chanyeol’s ears; yells and screams and gunshots. Around them, bodies are littered across the ground, mostly wearing guards’ uniforms, but there are a few of Lotto’s, too. Chanyeol steps over them delicately.

The adrenaline rush Chanyeol gets from these situations will never tire him.

“Let me, master,” Kyungsoo says from beside him, taking Chanyeol’s gloves and fitting them on, his hands working quickly and warmly. Someone moves towards them from around the van, but Kyungsoo easily and efficiently snaps his neck, his hands falling away from the guard’s head and his eyes wide and innocent.

“Thank you, Kyungsoo. Let’s do something fun when we go home, yeah?” Chanyeol winks, and Kyungsoo beams, pulling out his two guns. God, does Chanyeol love him.

 Chanyeol pulls out his own gun. It’s a M1911 Pistol, with an engraved slide and ivory grips. Chanyeol made all his important kills with this gun, including the fucker who killed his father.

For Chanyeol, the walk into the warehouse is easy. Kyungsoo walks just a little in front of Chanyeol, killing guards quickly and efficiently and with a delighted light in his eyes. Chanyeol’s pretty good with a gun too, and he takes down any aiming for Kyungsoo, as well. He can’t let Kyungsoo get injured, obviously.

It’s a bloodbath. Chanyeol would say it bothers him, but honestly, it doesn’t. The bodies are just another part of the job, and anyway, they’re not _Chanyeol’s_ men, so he doesn’t care. Perhaps that makes him a bad person. But that doens’t really bother him, either.

He’s long since known that his morals aren’t quite like normal men’s.

“Welcome,” Kris says, leaning against the door of the warehouse, grinning widely as Kyungsoo and Chanyeol approach. A rifle is leaning against his shoulder. “Everyone inside’s been taken care of.”

Chanyeol nods, is about to brush past him, when Kris adds, “There’s a kid, in there. When we came, the head guard was about to shoot him. I think you might want to talk to him, boss.”

Chanyeol pauses. Kyungsoo continues on inside. “A kid?” he asks.

“Well, like, nineteen.” Kris shrugs.

Without saying anything else, Chanyeol walks inside. The sounds of gunshots seem to be dying down, and suddenly Chanyeol’s footsteps seem so loud on the hard floor.

There are bodies piled in the corner, carelessly thrown together. Chanyeol barely spares them a second glance, and focuses on the three figures kneeling, hands tied, a few metres away. The rest of the warehouse has been ransacked, a hurricane blown through the shelves.

“Hello,” Chanyeol says, cheerfully. The one in the middle spits at his shoes.

Before Chanyeol can even blink, Kyungsoo, innocent-eyed, knees him hard across the face. There’s a crack and a cry of pain from the man. “Thank you, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says approvingly. Kyungsoo inclines his head with a small smile.

Chanyeol searches the face of the other two men. The one on the right is of average height, with a bloodied face and shaking hands. Probably about forty. The other one is young looking and tall, possibly almost as tall as Chanyeol himself. His shoulders are broad and his head bowed. Surely, the kid Kris was referring to.

“You,” Chanyeol says, eyes fixed on the kid’s face. The man on the right sags, sinking down further. The kid kneels straighter, lifting his head.

His eyes are so, so defiant.

Kyungsoo draws close to Chanyeol fleetingly, with just enough time to purr _“I like him,”_ in Chanyeol’s ear before pulling away again. Chanyeol smirks.

“Name and age,” he commands. In the corner of his eye, Kyungsoo starts to circle the three men, spinning his gun in one hand and his knife in the other.

“Are you...” the boy says instead. “Park Chanyeol?”

“Answer the question, boy.” Chanyeol smiles, pleasant and sharp-toothed. “Or I’ll have my darling here” – he gestures to Kyungsoo – “cut out your tongue.”

The kid stiffens. “Sehun,” he whispers, barely audible. “Oh Sehun.”

Chanyeol doesn’t understand what Kris meant. There’s nothing to talk to here. He looks towards Kyungsoo, who has stopped behind the two older men, and jerks his head towards the boy.

 _Kill him_.

“Wait!” Sehun cries. He scrambles to his feet, raising his bound hands. “Please!”

Kyungsoo looks back at Chanyeol, cocking his head to the side.

“Please,” Sehun begs. “I don’t-I don’t want to be a part of MAMACITA,” he says in a rush. “I was going to quit before you guys came, b-but Yoonjae-nim wouldn’t let me leave-”

“MAMACITA isn’t something you just _leave_ ,” the man in the middle snarls. “Filthy fucking traitor-”

The swift kick to the man’s back sends him sprawling, his face colliding with the ground, accompanied by a yell of pain. Kyungsoo steps forwards calmly, a heavy foot on his back.

“Thank you again, Kyungsoo-ah.” Chanyeol beams. “Yoonjae-ssi, you’ll shut the fuck up unless I ask you to talk.”

“Ten minutes, Chanyeol,” Kris calls from the doorway. Chanyeol will have to make this quick.

“ _Please_ ,” Sehun says again, kneeling once more, his head bowed low. “Please. I don’t want to die. I’ll-I’ll help you, I will. I’ll tell you things about MAMACITA. I know a lot, because Yoonjae-nim talks a lot when he’s drunk-”

“That’s enough.” Chanyeol raises his hand, and Sehun falls silent, his large frame shaking.

Kyungsoo’s finger tightens on the trigger.

Two shots ring out, almost like an explosion in the echoing warehouse.

“Get up,” Chanyeol says, and Sehun raises his head, his eyes brimming with tears. There are twin pools of blood spreading out from his colleagues’ bodies. “You’d better keep your promise, Oh Sehun.”

Sehun scrambles to his feet, bowing profusely. “I will, I _swear_ I will. Thank you, Chanyeol-nim.” Kyungsoo grabs ahold of the younger man’s uniform, dragging him forwards.

“Burn it down,” Chanyeol orders, when they exit the warehouse, and the cheers that rise up are greater than any gunshot. Chanyeol smiles.

Tonight: a success.

\---

When the adrenaline dies down and everyone is mostly settled, Chanyeol leaves Sehun in Baekhyun’s care. He asks Jongin to watch over Sehun, because he still doesn’t entirely trust the boy. Of course, Jongin complies immediately, his gaze doubtful, but his actions obedient.

“Jongin will watch him,” Kyungsoo promises, kissing Chanyeol’s shoulder. “You know he’s careful.”

“I hope I made the right decision,” Chanyeol says, frowning in the direction of the infirmary. “Smells like a fucking trap to me.”

“If he does turn out to be a rat, I’ll happily carve out his heart for you, master,” Kyungsoo murmurs. Chanyeol laughs.

“Hopefully, that won’t be needed.” They turn a corner, reaching the stairs that lead to Chanyeol’s bedroom. There’s no one else in the hallway. Chanyeol stops Kyungsoo, spinning him around and pushing him against the wall.

“Let’s have some fun,” he purrs into Kyungsoo’s ear, and Kyungsoo half-moans, arching up into the curve of Chanyeol’s body, wrapping his arms around Chanyeol’s neck. Chanyeol drags their mouths together hotly, his hand running up the length of Kyungsoo’s side. _God,_ he’s only ever wanted this.

The sound of voices breaks them apart, and Chanyeol only wastes a second before he hoists Kyungsoo up, his legs around Chanyeol’s waist and arms still around his neck. Kyungsoo’s not the lightest, but Chanyeol doesn’t mind; it’s not like he’s weak by any means. So he runs up the stairs with Kyungsoo in his arms, slamming the door shut behind them and pressing Kyungsoo back against the wall, instantly seeking his mouth again.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo gasps, when Chanyeol grinds roughly into him. Pleasure races up Chanyeol’s spine, both at the motion and at his name in Kyungsoo’s mouth. “ _Please_ , master-”

They find their release there, against the wall of Chanyeol’s bedroom. Chanyeol’s sure his groans are loud enough to be heard on the first floor of the mansion, their actions heavy enough to shake the whole house. No one comes to disturb them; which is good, because otherwise Chanyeol would have snapped their neck, assuming Kyungsoo didn’t get there first.

“I love you,” Kyungsoo whispers as they lie in bed later, naked and curled up in Chanyeol’s arms. “Chanyeol, I love you so much.”

Chanyeol takes Kyungsoo’s face in his hands, kissing his forehead softly. “I love you too, baby,” he says. “Don’t ever leave me, okay?”

Ever.

\---

The next few days are spent on a high.

Chanyeol has been in a ridiculously great mood ever since they took down Evanesce. Already, they’ve heard of Leeteuk losing money and losing clients – some of whom are coming to Lotto instead. There is nothing Chanyeol likes more than this.

Kyungsoo, too, has been staying back at the mansion in a good mood. He’s taken on less missions, and stayed by Chanyeol’s side more, which, of course, Chanyeol is totally game with. But when Chanyeol hears that more and more deals are being made at Kim Heechul’s various clubs, he can only be reminded of the things Kris told him before Evanesce.

“I’ll go, of course,” Kyungsoo promises. Chanyeol worries his lip between his teeth, pouting a little.

“Can’t you get Zitao or Jongin or Yixing instead?” he whines.

Kyungsoo laughs. “Jongin’s too busy with Sehun, and the other two are out on a mission, remember?” he reminds Chanyeol softly. “Don’t worry, master, I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Chanyeol admits, pouting. “The bedroom is much nicer.”

Kyungsoo laughs. “Well, you’re not wrong.” He smiles up at Chanyeol. “I’ll be back soon, and then we can go back to the bedroom.”

Chanyeol makes sure to sigh extra dramatically. “I’ll be waiting,” he says, and presses a quick kiss to Kyungsoo’s lips, one that he melts into. “Have fun,” he says, and then winks laviciously, inciting another laugh from Kyungsoo.

When Kyungsoo leaves through the front door, Chanyeol sighs again, the sigh genuine, this time. “You’re too clingy,” Baekhyun says, his voice ringing through the hall. Chanyeol startles, spinning around to see his best friend standing at the top of the stairs. He shoots a grin at Chanyeol. “Who knows, maybe Kyungsoo takes these missions just to get away from you.”

“Hey!” Chanyeol protests. “Kyungsoo appreciates my clinging very much.”

“KK,” Baekhyun says, and escapes up the stairs, cackling, before Chanyeol can grab him in a headlock.

Stopping halfway up the stairs, Chanyeol grins. Kyungsoo will be back soon.

\---

It’s four hours later, ten pm, and Chanyeol is pacing in the lounge. Kyungsoo is not back yet. There have been no messages from him, either.

He stops and stares at the glass clock on the mantelpiece, a suffocating dread settling in the pit of his stomach. Fuck, he hates this. Kyungsoo’s usually back by now, so why isn’t he? Why hasn’t he returned already? Why isn’t he-

“Chanyeol,” Jongdae says softly. “Stop. You’re only going to make yourself sick.”

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol snaps back, “ _Kyungsoo isn’t back yet._ It doesn’t usually take him this long. Heechul was only supposed to be twenty minutes away by car.”

“Chanyeol-”

“ _He’s not back yet!_ ”

Chanyeol’s not feeling frightened. No, he’s not. He’s not, because Kyungsoo will come back safe, and-

 _Where is he_?

It isn’t like Kyungsoo’s never been away this long. But Chanyeol’s beginning to feel on edge, because he’s realised: Leeteuk still has not retaliated, and Chanyeol knows he won’t have just let it go _._

“Channie-,” Baekhyun tries from beside Yixing, but Chanyeol just growls and kicks one of the sofas, hard enough to make Baekhyun flinch.

Instantly, Chanyeol regrets it. Kyungsoo wouldn’t have approved of those actions. “Sorry, Baek,” he mutters. “I’m just. I’m worried. Leeteuk still hasn’t made any moves since we burned Evanesce, and this is... this would be the perfect way to get to me.”

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything. Chanyeol knows he’s right.

Suddenly, there’s a flurry of activity from the door, and Junmyeon bursts in, the door slamming into the wall, his eyes wild. “Chanyeol,” he says, his tone far too calm for his expression, “turn on the TV.”

Chanyeol looks at the remote. Jongdae reaches for it, and switches the TV on.

It’s tuned to the main news channel, as it always is. Not many of them bother with genuine TV as entertainment. Chanyeol wishes, though, that he’d had one moment longer to not know about this.

“ _...appears as though it was purposefully rammed into by the SUV, smashing the side of the car and possibly killing anyone inside. Evidence seems to show that the driver of the vehicle was dragged out of the car. The police has not released any details on the victim nor the perpetrator, but it has been said that the car has an unregistered license plate and several firearms and weapons located in the trunk._ ”

“Fuck,” Baekhyun breathes. He’s looking at what they’re all looking at: Kyungsoo’s car, half-destroyed by the accident and a shit load of blood.

Chanyeol’s phone rings.

Its cry is shrill, piercing the air unpleasantly. Chanyeol breathes deeply, and pulls out his phone.

It’s Kyungsoo, but Chanyeol’s not fucking stupid. It’s not, really, Kyungsoo.

“Hello,” he answers anyway. The other people in the room glance at him, eyes wide.

“Hello, darling,” purrs Leeteuk’s voice back at him. “Missing someone?”

Chanyeol’s blood turns to ice. “You fucker,” he says, low and dangerous. “You fucking piece of shit.”

“I didn’t burn billions of won worth of supplies,” Leeteuk replies. “You cost me a lot of money, Chanyeol. Your little darling here barely even covers one thousandth of the price.”

“ _Leeteuk_ -”

“Say hello to daddy, Kyungsoo-yah,” Leeteuk says, his voice becoming distant. There’s a silence, and then the sound of flesh on bone and a low grunt of pain. “Say it.”

More silence. And then, “ _Fuck you-_ ”

Fury burns through Chanyeol, dark and all encompassing. “Leeteuk, _you utter fucking asshole_ -”

Leeteuk tuts. “Stop right there, Chanyeol. You started this little game. It’s my turn to play. Don’t worry, I’ll keep your little darling alive. Who knows, maybe you’ll even get parts of him back.” The delight in Leeteuk’s voice is clear and so absolutely enraging. “Don’t change your phone number, sweetie, I’ll call again,” he says, and the line goes dead.

It takes everything Chanyeol has not to throw his phone at the wall and instead toss it on the counter. The thrumming is his blood is too much.

“Chanyeol-” Baekhyun begins.

“Get Sehun,” Chanyeol demands. “Get him, _now_.” His voice is shaking with anger. Junmyeon runs quickly out the room, and in the distance, Chanyeol can hear him yelling for Jongin.

“What happened?” Baekhyun says softly.

“Don’t mind me,” Chanyeol says, approaching the mantelpiece, before promptly sweeping everything off of it. Every glass ornament and the glass clock shatter on the floor, the crash harsh and unforgiving and _not enough_.

No matter how much shit he destroys, he just can’t seem to eliminate the rage engulfing his body. He makes sure to imagine every item as Leeteuk’s face, but it only enrages him more.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_

“Chanyeol!” Jongdae all but screams, bringing Chanyeol’s movements to a fault. He turns. “Chanyeol, that’s enough-”

“You,” Chanyeol says, and Sehun cowers just as he should. “It was all you, wasn’t it?”

Sehun frantically shakes his head, clutching Jongin’s arm but Jongin only frowns, mouth parting. “I-I swear, I didn’t do anything-”

“Don’t,” Chanyeol growls, “don’t fucking lie to me. You’re MAMACITA’s shit, why should I believe you? You’ve not done anything for me. You’re probably the reason for Kyungsoo’s capture. I should fucking string you up.”

“I _swear_ -”

Chanyeol only realises he’s moved towards Sehun when he has Sehun’s shirt in his grip, both hands shaking him furiously. “Should have fucking let Kyungsoo kill you, fucking vermin. Give me one goddamn reason not to shoot you right now-”

“Chanyeol-nim!” Jongin grabs his arm, pleading. “Chanyeol-nim, _please_ , Sehun didn’t do anything.”

“Jongin,” Chanyeol says, staring still at Sehun, whose face is pale and so, so satisfyingly frightened. “Let. Go. Of. My. Arm.”

There’s a murmur around him, and Jongin releases his grip. But then Baekhyun is there, putting a gentle hand on Chanyeol’s arm instead. “Channie,” Baekhyun says softly. “Sehunnie’s innocent. It’s not his fault. Chanyeol.”

 _I like him_ , Kyungsoo had said. God, Chanyeol hates his fucking life. There’s a burning in his throat and at the back of his eyes, and Chanyeol has to let go. Sehun slumps to the ground, clutching his chest with tears in his eyes.

Chanyeol spins, kicking a chair over instead. He lets out a scream of rage and barely notices when Jongin and Sehun are hurried out of the room, because he’s too busy thinking of Kyungsoo. Of Kyungsoo promising to come back soon, promising him that he would be fine.

Of the laugh Kyungsoo had given Chanyeol.

“I’m going to tear Leeteuk apart,” Chanyeol announces.

Baekhyun grabs his hand. “We’ll help you,” he says. “Kyungsoo’s our friend, too. And that fucker deserves to rot in hell.”

“Tempted to kill someone right now,” Chanyeol mutters.

“You can come with me on my next mission,” Jongdae offers. His smile is grim. “We can kill lots of someones.”

“Fine,” Chanyeol allows, and they drag him to the meeting room, where others are already gathered. There’s Yixing, Zitao, Junmyeon, Luhan, Minseok, Jongin. Kris arrives shortly after they do, expression morose.

“Let’s all take turns cutting Leeteuk up, yeah?” he says, and growls of agreement echo through the room. Sehun is there too, and Chanyeol does his best to not glare with resentment, but it doesn’t really work. Now that he’s a little calmer, Chanyeol doesn’t honestly believe it was Sehun. If it was, then Chanyeol’s going to rip his heart out, but Jongin trusts him and Baekhyun trusts him and most importantly, Kyungsoo trusts him.

“So, Chanyeol,” Jongdae begins, and everyone turns to look at Chanyeol. “What do you want to do?”

“I would really, really like to send a bullet through Leeteuk’s eye,” he says delicately. “But first, I would like to get Kyungsoo back.”

The hum in his blood mirrors the calls of agreement in the room. If Leeteuk wants a fight, then he’s fucking getting one.

“Fucking prick,” Baekhyun mutters from beside Chanyeol. He clears his throat, then, and says, “Chanyeol, Sehun says he can help us.”

Chanyeol fixes his gaze on Sehun, eyes narrowed. To the man’s credit, he only flinches a little. “Oh, yeah? How?”

“I know-,” Sehun takes a deep breath. “I think I know the exact location where Leeteuk will be keeping K-Kyungsoo-hyung.”

“Yeah, yeah, at Leeteuk’s mansion,” Chanyeol says impatiently. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

With another breath, Sehun continues, “Leeteuk has a hidden basement underneath his garden. Yoonjae-nim always said that Leeteuk likes to t-torture his special prisoners there.”

The word ‘torture’ lights a flame in Chanyeol’s chest. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” He says it quietly, and with enough menace that Sehun knows what Chanyeol will do if he’s lying.

 Sehun falls silent. When Chanyeol is just about to stand up and tell him to leave, Sehun says, “You don’t, I guess. But this is probably the closest chance you’ve got.”

When Chanyeol looks back at him this time, there is no flinching, only a calm determination.

 _I like him_.

“Ugh, fine,” Chanyeol snaps. “Do you know anything else useful?”

“I’m guessing you know the basics of Leeteuk’s guard rotation,” Sehun says cautiously. Chanyeol nods. “Of course, he’ll probably increase the number of guards now that he has Kyungsoo-hyung. Yoonjae-nim said that when Leeteuk has extra security, there’s usually more guards during the night, since a lot of them prefer to sleep during the day. He also said that there are two entrances to the basement: one in the kitchen, and one in the garden itself.”

“Yoonjae told you a lot,” Chanyeol murmurs, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “How do I know he wasn’t lying to you?”

“I suppose... there’s no way of knowing,” Sehun says, inching closer to Jongin, who’s staring at him. “But if it, uh, makes you feel better, he never said any of these things directly to me, just to the other guards. When he was drunk.”

Chanyeol doesn’t miss Baekhyun’s slight smirk, and makes sure to knee him under the table. “Zitao,” Chanyeol calls, and the man straightens. “I want you to do some scouting on Leeteuk’s mansion. Make sure what Sehun says is true. You can take Jongin with you, if you want.”

“Yes, sir!” Zitao says, bowing as much as he can while sitting.

“Baekhyun, you watch Sehun while they’re gone. I want to do _this_ as soon as possible, so be quick, Zitao. Just make sure you don’t miss anything.” Chanyeol stands, making eye contact with each of his friends at the table. “I hope you understand that this mission is of the utmost importance to me, and that it’s very, very risky. If you, for any second, doubt our goal here, get the fuck out, and don’t come back.”

No one moves. “We, too, would do anything for Kyungsoo, Chanyeol,” Yixing says softly, and every head nods in agreement. Kris bangs his fist on the table. “God knows how many times he’s saved our asses.”

“Then, that’s all I need to hear,” Chanyeol says, and smiles as much as he can while Kyungsoo isn’t by his side. “Go, now, Zitao, Jongin. Take whatever you need and _go_.”

They go. Chanyeol doesn’t watch them. He knows that what he’s planning could get him, and everyone else in the room, killed. But for Kyungsoo...

Chanyeol doesn’t have a choice.

He’s about to ask Minseok to get them a map of Leeteuk’s mansion’s layout when Jongin comes back, face pale and hand clutching Chanyeol’s phone.

Dizziness shoots through Chanyeol, for a moment, and he puts a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Sir,” Jongin says. He wets his lips. “Sir, Leeteuk sent a message.”

“Well, give it to me,” Chanyeol demands, when Jongin stays frozen on the spot. With a deep breath, Jongin walks over, his footsteps unnaturally loud. Chanyeol takes the phone from him, unlocks it, and promptly feels a new wave of dizziness overcome him.

Sitting in his message is a picture from Kyungsoo’s phone. It’s of Kyungsoo, of course, stripped from the waist up, face bloody. His side is littered with dark, harsh bruises – from the car crash. There’s a small, circular wound – a bullet – on his left forearm, caked with blood. A knife is driven straight into the shoulder, and pale, delicate fingers are wrapped around the handle. Blood streams from the entry point, running in little rivers down Kyungsoo’s torso.

There’s a message, too.

_Where was it, again; the place where your pretty boy was shot when he was on that mission in China, three years ago?_

The buzzing in Chanyeol’s ears is far, far too loud for the quiet room around him.

_Never mind, sweetie; I found it._

“Get out,” Chanyeol says quietly. When no one moves, Chanyeol screams it.

He barely notices the touch on his shoulder from Baekhyun, nor the scraping chairs and closing door. He grips his phone so hard the screen fuzzes a little.

Chanyeol remembers that mission. His father, still alive then, had sent Kyungsoo and another assassin to China to murder one of his rivals. Only one of them came back, approximately two weeks later than he was supposed to, with an infected bullet wound in his left shoulder and several scarcely healed gashes on his body.

Chanyeol remembers the pain the bullet wound had caused Kyungsoo. Even now, Kyungsoo still feels a twinge in his shoulder, still feels that phantom pain.

There was nothing Chanyeol hated his father for more than his choice to send Kyungsoo on that mission.

And suddenly, the phone’s ringtone cuts through the stale air. Almost robotically, Chanyeol answers the call.

He’s met with a loud, deep groan of pain, and suddenly there’s fire in Chanyeol’s blood, an earthquake in his chest. “Doesn’t he have the most gorgeous voice?” croons Leeteuk. “Lucky you, Chanyeol. He must be a _pleasure_ to listen to during those sleepless nights.”

A growl rips through Chanyeol’s throat. “Don’t fucking touch him,” Chanyeol snarls, but Leeteuk only laughs, delighted.

“It’s a bit late for that. Oh, he’s so pretty, Chanyeol. You must enjoy those lips a lot.” Then, Chanyeol hears a muffled, _don’t bite me, sweetie_ , before: “Honestly, if I didn’t have someone already, I would be on this _so_ fast.”

And suddenly, Chanyeol can see the fingers gripping Kyungsoo’s lips in his mind. Hatred burns through him. “Pieces of shit like you can’t love,” Chanyeol sneers. There’s a banging sound from the other end, but no cry of pain, to his relief.

“You’re a piece of shit like me, Chanyeol, don’t forget that.”

“Leeteuk. What is it you want?”

“Revenge, obviously. You’ve made me so fucking mad, Chanyeol. All I want is you, suffering, while I take apart your little darling. Sounds good, right?”

“You think that I won’t find whoever it is you’re fucking?” Chanyeol growls. “That poor fucker won’t know I’m coming.”

Leeteuk laughs. “Oh, Chanyeol. You already found him. And he did know you were coming. How else would I have Kyungsoo here right now, trussed up nicely in a chair?”

There’s something about Leeteuk’s words that has Chanyeol feeling like he’s dipping his feet into a pond full of ice. When he realises, he slips into the water, ungraceful and thrashing. “ _Heechul_ ,” he hisses.

“It’s not my fault that you chose to kill him on that particular night, Chanyeol. Perhaps if I hadn’t been there, Kyungsoo would be at home, safe and sound. You two would probably be fucking right now.” Another laugh, clear and cold and cruel. “You won’t find Heechul, so don’t bother trying. If you do, I’ll made sure to cut off Kyungsoo’s precious fingers.”

A pause. “Goodnight, Chanyeol. Let’s hope for a good talk tomorrow, too!”

There is a horrible, pulsing ball of rage set in Chanyeol’s chest, just below his ribcage. It’s twisting him inside out, setting fire to his heart. “Someone fucking tell me what happened tonight,” he seethes, storming out the room and startling the three people in the hall. Kris darts off, and Baekhyun reaches a tentative hand towards him.

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun tries.

“Don’t,” Chanyeol grits out. He can’t trust himself not to harm his friend when he’s so, _so_ angry. Jongdae grabs Baekhyun and pulls him behind him a little.

Moments later, while Baekhyun and Jongdae converse in hushed voices that Chanyeol barely hears, Kris returns, Luhan in tow.

“Tell me,” Chanyeol demands again.

Luhan presses his lips together, before he says, “We’re not entirely sure what happened _inside_ Heechul’s home, but we know that seven minutes after Kyungsoo went in, he came out clutching his arm and running. Heechul came out moments later, a gun in his hand, as Kyungsoo was driving away. And then, next thing we know is that, on his way home, one of Leeteuk’s men crashes into Kyungsoo’s car with his SUV. They must have taken him from there.”

Chanyeol takes a deep breath. “Leeteuk was in there,” he growls, “with Heechul. Apparently, _they’re fucking_ , Kris.”

Kris flinches. “Chanyeol-” he begins.

“No,” Chanyeol snaps immediately. “I don’t want to fucking hear it.” Silence. Chanyeol sighs, and suddenly he’s just cold. “It’s not your fault, Kris,” he says. “We all could have done better. _And_ I’m going to castrate them both before I kill them.”

“Good choice,” Jongdae murmurs.

“Do you think they’ll mind if I cut out their eyes, too?” Chanyeol muses, shouldering past his friends and making his way to his office. No one answers; or, if they do, Chanyeol doesn’t care.

He spends the whole night – or morning, in fact – sitting in his chair, feet up on the desk. Sometimes he doesn’t think much of anything at all, and sometimes he thinks of everything. All the time, he thinks of Kyungsoo. He cannot bear to even consider not getting Kyungsoo back alive. Chanyeol _cannot_ lose Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo, who saved Chanyeol’s life at the risk of his own when he was only nine. Kyungsoo, who had the deadliest proficiency with a knife and with a gun at only ten. Kyungsoo, whom Chanyeol fell in love with when Chanyeol was fourteen. Kyungsoo, who helped Chanyeol through his father’s murder and helped him find, and kill, the murderer.

Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo, _Kyungsoo_. Kyungsoo, whom Chanyeol loves so much.

There are stars singeing their way down his throat and oceans drowning his heart.

Chanyeol will do anything, _anything_ it takes, just for this one thing. Just to have Kyungsoo back in his arms, unharmed and safe.

Anything.

\---

In the morning, when Chanyeol hasn’t slept at all, a text vibrates his phone and Chanyeol himself awake. The sender is Leeteuk, of course, and the picture is of Kyungsoo, of course.

Chanyeol tastes blood where he has bitten his lip through, and sees blood when Kyungsoo’s back comes into view. Kyungsoo’s back, always strong, always scarred, has been ripped over and over and over in huge lines of red.

_Leeteuk whipped him._

And the rage comes bubbling back, tearing its way through his chest. Chanyeol can’t stop staring at the bloody gashes, can’t stop staring at the fragile, torn skin and Kyungsoo’s hunched shoulders. Kyungsoo is barely standing upright in the photo, his wrists shackled to the wall and legs unsteady.

_Chanyeol, what’s your opinion on BDSM?_

Oh, if only Chanyeol could reach through the phone and slam Leeteuk’s head into the cold stone wall.

Instead, he hurls his phone across the room. The shattering sound isn’t satisfying, at all. He can barely think, barely feel – except for the endless fury settled in his sternum.

When Chanyeol starts looking again, his office is completely destroyed, the glass table overturned and cracked, the lamps shattered and bent across the room. There are paper files everywhere.

It’s not enough. Chanyeol still wants to kill someone.

So when someone knocks at the door and opens it tentatively, Chanyeol doesn’t hesitate before grabbing them by the throat and shoving them into the wall, teeth bared in a snarl.

“Chanyeol!” Baekhyun gasps out, pain threaded through in his words.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says, and his voice cracks along with his composure. His grip loosens around Baekhyun’s throat and his head thuds into the space beside Baekhyun’s. “Baekhyun, I can’t- I’m so, so fucking angry. Kyungsoo, _my Kyungsoo..._ ”

A hand lands on Chanyeol’s back, soft and gentle. “I know,” Baekhyun whispers.

“Leeteuk said he wanted to see me suffer. And, you know what? It’s working.” The laugh he gives is bitter and dry. “It’s working so damn well.”

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says, and his grip tightens on Chanyeol’s shirt. “We’re going to get him back. I mean it. Zitao and Jongin came back, we have everything we need. If you’re... If you’re ready.”

Chanyeol can still see the slices in Kyungsoo’s back, can still see the knife in his shoulder. Slowly, he raises his head. “Sorry for hurting you, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun smiles a smile cracked with pain but a smile nonetheless. “Sorry you had to,” he says.

Chanyeol mirrors his smile. “I’m ready.”

When they arrive in the meeting room, everyone from the previous night is there too. “...and considering the increased number of guards in this area, I’d wager-” Jongin breaks off upon seeing Chanyeol and Baekhyun enter, and immediately starts to bow.

“None of that, Jongin-ah,” Chanyeol says. “Just continue, please.”

Jongin clears his throat. “Um, yeah, so I’d wager that the entrance is here. The entrance in the kitchen is probably less guarded itself, but the house will be filled with Leeteuk’s men. So it’ll probably be better to take the one in the garden.”

“Fine,” Chanyeol says. “But, if I theoretically wanted to kill as many people as I could, the kitchen would be better?”

“Well-”

“Great.” Chanyeol smiles. It’s more like a grimace. “You all know that Leeteuk will be expecting this. You all know it’s not going to be some walk in the park. It’s not Evanesce, it’s Leeteuk’s bloody house. There’s a very high possibility that we all might die.” He looks around at his men. Ten strong faces look back. “I’m holding you to your promises, because I absolutely cannot lose Kyungsoo. But, if Kyungsoo dies, I want you all to retreat.”

When nearly all of them open their mouths to protest, Chanyeol holds his hands. “I mean it,” he growls. “There is no point in us all dying when our goal is no longer achievable.”

“What about you?” Baekhyun asks, a hand locked around Chanyeol’s wrist. His eyes are dark, and Chanyeol knows Baekhyun knows what the answer is. “What will you do?”

“I’ll do what I always want to do,” Chanyeol replies, “and that’s be by Kyungsoo’s side.”

“No. Fucking. Way,” Junmyeon growls, and a chorus of angry agreement arises.

“It’s my decision to make,” Chanyeol snaps. “Perhaps Lotto shouldn’t have a leader who would risk all his men’s lives for his own selfish gain, anyway.”

“It’s not selfish,” Yixing says, frowning. “We all want Kyungsoo back, Chanyeol.”

“And I don’t want all of you to die, okay?” Chanyeol slams his fist on the table. “Do what I’m telling. This is an order, do you understand? Good.”

There is a silence. And then Kris says, “Chanyeol. What do you want to do?”

Chanyeol smiles. “Listen closely,” he says and tells them of a plan created through one sleepless night.

If Chanyeol dies today, he bloody better kill some men in the process.

\---

It goes like this.

Luhan and Minseok set up far away on a rooftop and take out ten of Leeteuk’s men inside the mansion, and ten of his men outside. At the same time, Sehun stumbles towards the back of the mansion grounds, bloodied and calling for help. When two guards step forwards, Sehun kills both and narrowly avoids the shot from the third one, who dies when Jongin puts a bullet in his brain.

A large truck with the brand _SUPER JUNIOR_ stamped on the side smashes through the front gate, swerving and barely managing to crash into the wall beside the front door, which opens.

Yixing and Junmyeon lead the battle into the front gate, backed by forty men, killing anyone they see. There is dust and blood and cries in the air.

Hundreds of metres away, Luhan and Minseok continue to pick off any men they can. Jongin, Zitao, and Sehun fight off the guards at the rear end along with twenty other men.

There are ten people from Lotto on the ground already, but dozens more from MAMACITA.

And Chanyeol walks out of the SUPER JUNIOR truck, calmly fixing his gloves and ducking into the entrance of the mansion. Kris and Jongdae accompany him, their shots not quite the same as Kyungsoo’s but good enough. Baekhyun is there, too, a medical bag slung over his shoulder and a gun in his hand. Sometimes, Baekhyun practices back at home.

The fight is hard, inside the mansion. A few of Lotto’s men are in their with them, but it’s incredibly dangerous. Chanyeol has already been grazed by a bullet; his cheek _still_ smarts, and snapping the shooter’s neck hadn’t made him feel any better!

“This way!” Jongdae yells over the shouts and gunshots. Chanyeol picks off any remaining MAMACITA members and runs after him, ducking around corners before they arrive at the kitchen. After trying the handle, Jongdae shoots the lock and slams his shoulder in the door,  which slams open to reveal cowering kitchen staff.

Chanyeol almost, _almost_ thinks they’re harmless. But one of the kitchen maids moves too early, and before the gun is fully out her pocket she’s dead on the floor, blood pooling beneath her head.

“Don’t fucking move,” Chanyeol snarls. “I’m very tempted to go over my kill-quota today.”

They don’t move.

Around Chanyeol, Kris and Jongdae and Baekhyun are tossing aside food and utensils and tables. “Found it,” Kris finally calls after what feels like years. “It needs a passcode-”

The door opens and a half-yell from Kris follows. The slumping of Kris’s body unfreezes Chanyeol and he’s got a gun on the face that appears.

“ _Kris-_ ”

“Hello, boys,” says Leeteuk, one gun pressed to Kris’s stomach and another aimed at Baekhyun’s head. “I was wondering when you’d all drop by.”

“ _Leeteuk,_ ” Chanyeol snarls. Beside the door, Kris groans, clutching his side.

“Chanyeol, how about we have a nice little chat? Please, why don’t you come inside. Don’t bring your friends, or your guns.”

Chanyeol doesn’t move. There is a hatred running through his blood, a burning in his veins. “I’m going to kill you,” Chanyeol says, and his words are bit out through gritted teeth.

Leeteuk laughs. “Great, great. Now come inside, please, or I’ll have Heechul shoot your darling in the stomach – I’m sure you know how painful that is – and I’ll kill your pretty medic and this stupid oaf here.”

Chanyeol lowers his arm.

“ _Don’t-_ ” Jongdae starts, before he stops, twisting awkwardly as a bullet bites through his shoulder. The pounding in Chanyeol’s ears is louder than any gunshot.

“Oh, thank you, Yesung. I’m so glad you’re here,” Leeteuk says, smiling pleasantly. “Now get in here, Chanyeol, or Yesung won’t miss this time.”

“Didn’t fucking miss the first time,” Yesung mutters from beside Leeteuk’s shoulder. Yesung, who is Leeteuk’s right hand man. Chanyeol’s fucked.

“Remember what I said, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol reminds him, dropping his guns. The clatter of his M1911 echoes in his mind as he walks towards the door. “Don’t you dare disobey.”

“Chanyeol, please,” Baekhyun whispers, but Chanyeol’s not listening.

“You’ve not killed Kyungsoo already?” Chanyeol asks, stepping through the doorway. Now, Yesung’s gun is level at Chanyeol’s chest.

“What’s the point in killing him if you’re not there?” Leeteuk reasons, and slams the door behind him. “Now, now, let’s go, Chanyeol-ah. Your darling is waiting.”

“I hope you understand that I’m going to take you apart and kill you, Leeteuk.” Chanyeol starts walking down the steps. Leeteuk only laughs. At the bottom of the stairs, there is a long, dark corridor, with a door open at the opposite end, shining light onto the dark floor. _How fitting_ , Chanyeol thinks. The light at the end of the tunnel. The pounding in Chanyeol’s ears gets louder.

“By the way,” Leeteuk says, conversationally. “I really liked the way you guys stormed in here. I really thought Oh Sehun was dead, too.”

Chanyeol’s throat is so, so dry. “You don’t honestly think you can win this battle.”

“Oh, I do. Do you know why, Chanyeol? Because once you’re dead and Kyungsoo is dead, your men will retreat, because you’ll have told them to not waste their lives for you, or some chivalrous bullshit like that.” Leeteuk’s laugh is bright and derisive. “You should know, Chanyeol, that people like us can’t afford the kindness that other people can. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be us.”

They’re there now, at the end of the corridor. Rough hands shove Chanyeol inside, and he nearly stumbles.

“ _Chanyeol_ ,” Kyungsoo croaks, and Chanyeol almost cries at the sight of him.

He’s still shackled to the wall, wrists locked in an iron grip and back bloody despite the bandages that have been carelessly wrapped around him. Beside him, Heechul stands, studying his fingernails and looking incredibly bored. That alone sends anger humming through Chanyeol’s blood.

“We couldn’t have Kyungsoo bleeding out before you came, could we?” Leeteuk says. The punch Chanyeol throws is useless, because before he can even get close Yesung wrestles him into the floor, his face pressed painfully onto the hard stone. The cut on his cheek oozes blood.

“Look, Chanyeol.” Leeteuk’s leather shoes appear in his line of vision. “There’s simply no way you and Kyungsoo are going to get out of here alive. There’s simply _no way_ you can win this game.”

Yesung presses even more into Chanyeol’s back, and Chanyeol lets out a grunt of _fuck you_.

“No, only Heechul gets to do that,” Leeteuk says, sounding amused at his own joke. And oh, the hatred digs deep into Chanyeol’s soul. “Let him up, Yesung, you’re going to crush his handsome face, and what a disaster that would be.”

When Yesung stands, he drags Chanyeol upright with him, pressing his gun to Chanyeol’s skull. “Leeteuk,” Chanyeol says, quietly. “I will kill you and your stupid fucking lover.”

“Well, you can’t do that if you’re dead.” Leeteuk smiles and spins on his heel, walking over to Kyungsoo. A hand places itself on Kyungsoo’s back, and Kyungsoo’s whole body flinches.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” It comes out in a scream that rips itself from Chanyeol’s throat. The image of Kyungsoo’s torn back flashes in his mind again. He can’t- _He can’t allow that to happen again._

“Sorry it has to be this way, Kyungsoo,” Leeteuk says, ignoring Chanyeol. “You know, I do really appreciate your skill as an assassin. Truly commendable. The very fact that you got into Heechul’s home, _with_ me in there, without anyone noticing and killing your way through the guards was really something. It’s just unlucky that I just happened to not be in Heechul’s room when you were. Honestly, you are truly skilled. I’d offer you a place in MAMACITA if I didn’t know you were Chanyeol’s little bitch, and nothing else.”

“Leeteuk,” Kyungsoo rasps. Ice slides its way into Chanyeol’s stomach at the sound of his hoarse voice. “You really are... a huge fucking idiot.”

Leeteuk’s surprise is evident. “What?” he says, eyebrows raised. “That’s not-”

It’s simple, really. Chanyeol takes the knife hidden in his sleeve and slices Yesung’s neck open, not fast enough to stop him pulling the trigger, but fast enough to avoid the bullet piercing through his torso. Instead, it burns a path through the top layer of Chanyeol’s flesh, ripping a hole in the side of his shirt, but Chanyeol grits his teeth through the pain and grabs Yesung’s gun. There is blood staining his shirt now, dark and sticky but not Chanyeol’s.

The basement door bangs open just as Leeteuk first fires a shot at Chanyeol and Chanyeol fires one back. Both miss, but all of a sudden Leeteuk’s on the floor, lip bloody and gun knocked out of his hand. It’s chaos and yelling but Chanyeol sees how Kyungsoo twists himself in the shackles and somehow, with all the strength he has left, slams his foot into Leeteuk’s face.

God, Chanyeol loves him.

The twisting movement forces Kyungsoo to fall into the wall on his back, and he hits it with a sharp cry, slumping and dragging on the shackles. _Fuck_. And suddenly all he can see is Kyungsoo’s contorted expression of pain.

It’s not an expression Chanyeol wants to see ever again.

Chanyeol only vaguely registers leaping over Leeteuk to reach Kyungsoo, shooting the cuffs off and hauling Kyungsoo’s smaller body into his lap, letting Kyungsoo lean heavily into him. Chanyeol is careful not to touch any of Kyungsoo’s upper back, resting his hands below the bandages. “It’s okay,” he says, and that’s when Chanyeol realises it himself: that it’s finally, finally okay. “I’m here, baby, I’m here.”

Kyungsoo groans, digging his chin into Chanyeol’s shoulder. “Fuck, never get whipped, Chanyeollie,” he murmurs. A whoop, presumably Baekhyun’s, reaches their ears. “And tell Byun Baekhyun to _shut the fuck up!_ ” The last four words are half-yelled, and Chanyeol starts laughing.

“I really thought I was going to lose you,” Chanyeol mumbles. The feel of Kyungsoo’s body against his is so, so comforting, and everything Chanyeol needs right now. “I really, really did.”

Kyungsoo is silent. And then he buries his face in the crook of Chanyeol’s neck and says, “Well, now you’re stuck with me forever.”

Chanyeol grins. It’s his first real grin in twenty four hours, which, really, is a lot for Chanyeol. “There’s nothing I would want more.”

\---

“I don’t understand,” Leeteuk says flatly. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

Chanyeol steps a tiny bit closer to the cell bars. “Honestly, Leeteuk, I’m not really sure myself. Keeping you alive is a waste of my resources. But the very fact that you want to die... Well, that alone is incentive for me to not kill you.” Chanyeol taps his gun on the bars, smirking when Leeteuk’s eyes follow it. “I haven’t quite decided how I want you to die yet, either.”

He’s walking away when Leeteuk calls, “Heechul.”

“Sorry, darling,” Chanyeol says. “I guess you’ll never know.”

The truth, Chanyeol thinks as he makes his way back up the stairs, is that Heechul is dead, because Yixing shot him through the chest when they tried to force him in a cell much like Leeteuk’s and he tried to force his way out.

Chanyeol would feel bad, but then he remembers the expression Heechul had had in the basement two days ago, and any lingering guilt vanishes at the thought.

“Welcome back,” Baekhyun says cheerfully as Chanyeol enters the medical ward ten minutes later. “Have fun with Captain Bitch?”

“The best fun.” Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “How is everyone?”

“Well, mostly everyone’s patched up now. A couple with less serious injuries are already out and about, like you.” Baekhyun pauses. “Jongdae tried getting out of bed _twice_ to go shooting by the way. He should know better by now, stupid fucker.” There’s a fondness in Baekhyun’s tone, however, and Chanyeol grins.

“Confessed yet?” he asks, and his grin widens when Baekhyun pouts.

“It’s not as easy as it looks!” Baekhyun insists. “I’ve no _idea_ how you and Kyungsoo got together, because he’s an oblivious idiot when it comes to love, and you’re just a coward.”

“Hey!” Chanyeol complains. “I’ll have you know, it only took me three years to confess to him!”

Baekhyun’s laugh is as obnoxious as always. “Coward,” he repeats, smiling. “Oh, Kris is doing well, by the way. After the first day’s scare, his condition has improved.”

Chanyeol breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck,” he says. Kris had been shot in a more serious place than the others, and at one point he had almost died despite being back at the mansion. To lose one of his best men _after_ the big mission would have been far, far more devastating.

“And Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol asks, finally. If he could, Chanyeol would never leave Kyungsoo’s side. But he’s still the leader of Lotto and he still has work to do. In fact, he’s probably got more work now that MAMACITA is reforming without their old boss.

“Doing well.” Baekhyun’s smile is a grimace. “His wounds were... not nice, Chanyeol. I don’t know how long it will take those gashes to heal. I’ve bandaged it up as best as I can, but he won’t be out for a long while.”

“That’s okay,” Chanyeol says. “It’s about time he took a break anyway. Thank you, Baekhyun. I’m so fucking glad you’re safe, you know.”

Baekhyun laughs. “I know, Chanyeollie, you say it every time. Now, off you go, Kyungsoo’s waiting. He’ll probably tell you off for not getting your cheek stitched up properly.”

And, true to Baekhyun’s prediction, the first thing Kyungsoo says when he sees him is “You really need to take better care of that cut.”

“Hello to you too.” Chanyeol grins, crouching beside Kyungsoo’s bed. Kyungsoo is lying on his front, and he looks so wounded that Chanyeol _still_ feels like crying.

“Seriously, master, what if it gets infected?” Kyungsoo raises his right hand to stroke Chanyeol’s cheek. “Then you’d be even worse off than me.”

Chanyeol chuckles, cupping Kyungsoo’s hand in his own. There’s a calm happiness sitting in his stomach right now. He loves Kyungsoo so much. “You can just punish me for being bad,” Chanyeol says, and winks excessively. When Kyungsoo just stares at him, Chanyeol bites his lip. “Too early for the BDSM jokes?”

Kyungsoo stares a bit more. And then he starts laughing, full laughter that shakes his entire body, and the very sight of it makes Chanyeol laugh too.

“I really thought you were offended, for a second,” Chanyeol says, grinning. “Thank you for dealing with my bullshit.”

“Thank you for being here and letting me deal with it,” Kyungsoo whispers, and Chanyeol can’t _not_ kiss him softly on the lips.

“Ew!” Baekhyun screeches, when he steps through the curtains a moment later. “Stop it! This is a public place!”

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says Very Pleasantly. “When my back heals, I’m going to whip _you_.”

“And I’m going to leave, right now, so terribly sorry for disturbing you.” Baekhyun melts away, slipping back through the curtains and shutting them. Chanyeol’s too busy giggling to notice.

By the time Park Chanyeol is twenty four years old, he has fallen in love with Kyungsoo over and over and over again. And Chanyeol never, ever wants to stop falling in love with him.

That’s all, really, he needs in life.

 


End file.
